


There's No Place Like Home

by heartsewnsleeve



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsewnsleeve/pseuds/heartsewnsleeve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's not a favor you could ask that I would refuse." They stood, and he reached out his arm for hers to intertwine with his. In perfect harmony, they strolled. He pointed to every street, sharing his memories with her, and she listened patiently. He smiled at strangers and laughed. It was so unlike Angel. There was no guard, no misery underlaid in his memories. He was happy. He was happy in her arms."</p><p>Historical AU, Liam/Cordelia, AtS for nocticola_20 (circa late Season 2 before Pylea). This was a fanfiction written for a Livejournal oneshot meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Place Like Home

There were twenty different... actually,  _twenty million_  things that Cordelia would prefer to be  doing than wandering aimlessly through the streets of Ireland. The gown felt heavy and tugging, and her feet felt bruised with every step she took in the light satin slippers that adorned her feet on the rough cobble-stone streets. Only a few hours ago, she was sitting on her bed while watching The Young and the Restless and painting her toes a pretty shade of bubble-gum pink. Now she was cold, confused, lost, and the only thing that kept etching her forward was her strong stubbornness.  
  
It was just her luck that she was the one who shot the cross-bow last night at the demon. And, it was  _just her_  luck that she'd be the one to deal with the aftermath "curse". It was a time portal demon, and whoever killed it, would be forced to time-travel to a dimension that was a replica of history and time. You had no choice in where you went; it chose for you. It wouldn't last forever. _Thank god_. It wouldn't affect those who you encountered either, but would stay forever in your memory. That was part of the "curse" apparently.  
  
Wes had figured that out only mere minutes before she felt everything going black to wake up here. One moment, she was staring at a worried face Angel who was tugging his hair nervously, while Wesley stared with a fascinated yet worried expression.  
  
Now here she was, trudging down the streets and avoiding gazes with the others. She feared she'd say something to startle them ( _if she died in this dimension than did she really die, she wondered?)._  She had woken up behind a small shop. The only nice thing about the curse was that her clothes altered themselves. No longer was she wearing a floral top and knee length skirt; she woke up in a beautiful 17th century gown. As she strolled down the streets, she seemed to be like any other lady besides her hair but she moved too fast for them to take notice.  
  
Also, the whole beautiful thing gown only lasted so long. She had enough of it already. She wanted to throw the stupid dress and shoes into the water. If she never saw a historical film again, she'd be perfectly happy with it.  
  
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home." Cordelia mustered with frustration. It was a  _worth_  shot. Since that plan failed big time, she walked into the pub that she was standing in front of. The name read, The Brazen Head, and she quickly shuffled inside. She knew she had to go somewhere. It had to be at least nearing 4'PM and she had been walking for what seemed like days.  
  
It wasn't until she sat down did she see  _him_.  
  
He was standing in the corner with a look of mischief in his eyes. His hand cradled his mug, and his foot tapped lightly to the music being played by the piano player and singer. He smiled flirtatiously as the women brushed by him, and bowed lightly with a sense of snark. She blinked, once again, and her lips parted slightly in shock. Quickly, he seized the hand of one woman and twirled her lightly. She looked ready to swoon and he smiled widely with a sense of amusement and playfulness.  
  
Until he dropped her onto the hard surface.  
  
Suddenly, his eyes locked on her and it felt as if the world stopped turning. He cocked his head slightly. There was no more mischief or playfulness shining through, but it was a look she had seen before. It was a look she had longed for. He shook his head and helped up the woman he dropped. All Cordelia could think of was that there was him with the same goofy grin.  
  
It took all of her will to not run to him, scream  _"Angel!"_  and flail her arms around his neck tightly in an embrace. It wasn't until she had seen him that she realized how bad she missed him. Though, something shook her thoughts away as she suddenly had an urge to laugh uncontrollably. Angel, was indeed a ladies' man. Dorky Angel who owned Barry Manilow albums and was apart of his fanclub email listing, was a ladies man. She had heard mention before that his choices before becoming a vampire involved a lot of women and drinking. He was  _still_  a dork though.  
  
Before she knew it, that exact ladies man was standing in front of her with a twinkle in both of his eyes and a slight smirk.  
  
Then it hit her. It was okay to flirt with him, to think of him because there were no consequences in this dimension.  
  
"May I compare thee to a summer's day?" he asked with a tone of sensuality.  
  
"You enjoy Shakespeare?"  
  
"No, but most ladies do, therefore I do," they both laughed almost instantly. "Alright, that is a lie. I love Shakespeare. I am Liam. May I ask your name?"  
  
"Cordelia." He stared at her and smiled.  
  
"I chose rightly in my opening line, I suppose" They both laughed. He drew a seat in front of her and sat down. He had a faint smell of ale on his breathe. This must be what a drunk Liam was like. "You are not from here, are you?"  
  
"No. I'm  _err_.... visiting temporarily. I'm from a place that seems so far away." Talk about an understatement.  
  
"Only temporarily? You have broken my heart, fair maiden!" He said jokingly and clutched his heart. It was strange to see Angel this...  _careless_ , so much without any sense of guard. It was nice. She had a feeling that his facade of flirting was really because of the liquor.  
  
"Are you always this sweet with the ladies?"  
  
"Only when my sweet friend Ale or Whiskey is with me," he chucked and blushed lightly. "But, even the strongest ale could not help me with swooning someone as beautiful as you." He leaned in to her. "I'm a little less shy when I drink. If it were Sunday, I'd have broken my neck in tripping nervously before I could speak to you."  
  
"You think I'm beautiful, rea-... sir?"  _God,_ Cordelia thought _, this historical speaking was irritating._  
  
"I  _know_  you are beautiful."  
  
"I think you're a little too keen on flattery," she let out a small laugh. "Can you show me Ireland? I'm lost."  _Understatement_.  
  
"There's not a favor you could ask that I would refuse." They stood, and he reached out his arm for hers to intertwine with his. In perfect harmony, they strolled. He pointed to every street, sharing his memories with her, and she listened patiently. He smiled at strangers and laughed. It was so unlike Angel. There was no guard, no misery underlaid in his memories. He was happy. He was happy in her arms.  
  
As we lead her to the small bay to show her "the most beautiful water that eyes could see" - it hit her,  _very hardly_ , that there were no repercussions in this realm. She glanced behind her and quickly put her lips onto his. She placed her hands on his cheeks. Kissing him was beautiful, and warm, and for one split second, she thought to herself that it felt like love.  
  
As the thought came to her, it broke her away from him.  
  
Liam was crimson and starry eyed as he stared at her.  
  
"I have never kissed a woman and felt as I did with you," his hands grasped hers. "I feel like a fool, a drunken fool, but I think I may have met you before. I must have. You felt like home."  
  
 _Home_ , that was the kiss felt like, she mused.  
  
But before a word could be utter, she was falling.

* * *

 

 

**FIVE HOURS LATER:**

"Cordelia? I think she's waking up." She opened one eye to see Wesley standing over top of her with a concerned Gunn behind him glancing. Her hand was being grasped by Angel, whose face was knotted in worry, and was examining her with worried eyes.  
  
"Cordy? Cordy, are you okay?"  _What a dork_. She let out a small giggle as the thought hit her. He was even a dork as a human... just masked it pretty well with liquor. Soon, she couldn't stop laughing. All she could picture was Angel reciting Shakespeare and singing "Mandy". "Wesley, are you sure she's okay? She hasn't said a word and she just keeps laughing."

"I'm fine," she eventually said after he laughter seized. She went to sit up, but fell backwards from the dizziness. "My head hurts a little bit. I feel dizzy." Angel quickly caught her and soon she was lying against his chest. His hands stroking her hair.  
  
The tiredness was too overwhelming.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Yes?" his nervous tone evident.  
  
"There's no place like home." she muttered as she dozed off with her head still lying on his chest, and her hand somehow finding a way to latch onto his.


End file.
